


in the sodium light

by Cicadaemon



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 00:59:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cicadaemon/pseuds/Cicadaemon
Summary: He had bided a farewell to Morgan and had hurried back off to his lodging in St. Denis to lick his wounds or something more nefarious. He hadn't decided if embarrassment or lust was stronger. Perhaps the lust. Definitely lust. He hadn’t made it half way home with all the terrible thoughts swarming his head. He kept replaying the scene in his head, but with it warping just so to fit his fantasies better. Maybe Morgan would hold onto him for a little longer, maybe he’d kiss his neck this time, or maybe they would be completely swarmed with passion that they’d rut on that cliff side.





	in the sodium light

**Author's Note:**

> I love me 1 (one) gay cowboy and an equally gay photographer. Originally a drabble collection which has been now moved to what echoes from our lips

He always felt like the biggest fool when it concerned Arthur Morgan.

Of course, it didn’t help that in every instance they had met, Albert had done something ridiculously dangerous that went beyond the border of stupidity which required the help of Morgan. Being ridiculous and awkward was something Albert was used to; it was a charming factor as he had been told in the past. Being a bumbling idiot sometimes worked in his favour. 

No, he felt a fool because he found himself completely enamoured by Mister Morgan. He had been completely taken back on their first meeting; seeing a strange man in the woods can be quite bad for the heart, but Albert was not one to talk considering how strange a sight he must have been himself! Once the initial shock was gone, he could not help, but take in the fact that this man was ruggedly handsome. He wanted to make a show for this handsome man, to make himself seem put together and handsome. Of course, that fell apart when that damned coyote had stolen his bag and his image had dropped completely. He had put himself together somewhat when Morgan had been kind enough to get his bag for him, but the damage had been done. He was an idiot.

Morgan had a certain charm to him too that made him weak in the knees. From the beginning, just by the way he stood and talked, Albert could tell he was a dangerous man. He had grown up in Albany, a proper city that had its fair share of dangerous men. He was no fool. This man though was helpful and asked for no money; he was dangerous yes, but he had manners. He had smiled at him and was graceful around his fluttering and apologies. In Albert’s book that made Mister Morgan a saint.

They had met several times after that, and each time Albert found himself falling more and more in love. Every touch had set him aflame once the adrenaline had settled down. Simply, he ached to be held by Mister Morgan. In a more complex form, he wanted to explore every part of him, physically and emotionally. Morgan though, would probably never fall for an idiot such as himself Albert told himself often. And he proved himself an idiot tenfold in every moment. This newest form of idiocy was something else though; nearly falling off a cliff because you can’t listen to a warning is the height of stupidity. He should count himself lucky that he didn’t die, but luck didn’t seem to want to know him at all. Lady Luck had been kind enough though to allow him to be held onto by Morgan. Manhandled is a better word, but really did it matter? He got his wish and it sent heat to the pit of his stomach.

He had bided a farewell to Morgan and had hurried back off to his lodging in St. Denis to lick his wounds or something more nefarious. He hadn't decided if embarrassment or lust was stronger. Perhaps the lust. Definitely lust. He hadn’t made it half way home with all the terrible thoughts swarming his head. He kept replaying the scene in his head, but with it warping just so to fit his fantasies better. Maybe Morgan would hold onto him for a little longer, maybe he’d kiss his neck this time, or maybe they would be completely swarmed with passion that they’d rut on that cliff side. He had hopped off his horse when the cockstand he was now sporting was too much to stand, and riding while aroused was surprisingly painful.

He had been quick to hitch up his mare up to the nearest thing that’d hold her and wander a little into the woods. He had shame enough not to do what he needed to in front of her. He had leaned back hard into a tree and took no care in freeing his cock and began to pleasuring himself.

He hissed at first contact, the feeling was slightly pained with how aroused he was, but soon fell into a steady pattern that had him whining and babbling.

He kept imagining that it was Morgan doing this for him. How those thick calloused fingers would wrap around him, steady if not a little unsure and touch him in long strokes. In his imagination, he was telling him what a good job he was doing; that he was so fucking good and he was making him so fucking horny. Imagination and reality where one in the same as he whispered these profanities out to no one, but God he should be allowed to have this with no shame!

He was getting close fast, not surprising considering how long it had been since he had been blocked or touched by anyone in so long, not even by himself. The image of Morgan, his mouth slightly parted and a little breathless with desire was enough to make Albert’s knees go weak.

“Oh Arthur, oh fuck me.” His voice raised, not a care in him to keep quiet. “Darling, I’m going to come. Oh how you undo me, oh fuck fuck.”

He could see Arthur lean in then, kiss his neck hard and tell him in that sexy, rough voice of his to “go ahead” which Albert would of course comply with.

A shout was caught in his throat, rendering him silent as he came hard. It was one of the more intense orgasms of his life, drawing out with a steady ebbing of pleasure still clinging to him. He had a near death grip on his cock, which he had only notice when sense came back to him enough to tuck himself back into his trousers. His knuckles felt stiff from the strength in his grip. It was embarrassing.

He took a quick look around once he felt more or less cleaned up, and made his way back to his mare, wobbling a little with still weak knees.

Riding back to St. Denis was long, and now the thoughts that plagued his mind were not erotic, but a sense of shame. He was ridiculously in love with Arthur, and he prayed to whoever was listening that they’d grant him the luck he so desperately needed to see him again.

**Author's Note:**

> harrygoodsirs.tumblr / livedinarcadia.tumblr

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [that masquerades as moon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17302310) by [pyotr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyotr/pseuds/pyotr)




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